Then keep reading to get an EXCLUSIVE sneak peek at TAMING THE LION and to enter the giveaway for a $20 Amazon gift card!

Pack bonds are tested in the Shifter Wars as the lion heir must choose between his legacy and his mate.

For Marco, heir to the lions’ throne, seizing control of the Cave of Whispers from the bear clan is more than just a quest—it’s fulfilling the legacy of his breed. But the latest crusade has left Marco gravely wounded in enemy territory and in the hands of Alicia, healer for the bears. An irresistibly sensuous adversary, Alicia presents a serious problem. She carries the scent of a mate.

Drawn to this dominant master of his den, Alicia knows her allegiance has been compromised. His brooding sexuality is testing her defenses, but falling in love with Marco means falling in league with a rival shifter. And turning her back on the bears in a time of war is a lethal move.
Two breeds united by destiny could inspire a peaceful new future for their opposing clans—or ignite the fiercest battle yet and destroy all of Deep Creek forever.

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“Let’s do this.” Alicia wiped the sweat from her forehead, tugged her medic pack higher on her shoulder, and trudged deeper into the forest, away from the cave.
Every muscle burned and her head throbbed. Surely she’d found all the wounded bears by now.
Can’t take a chance I’ve missed anyone. Too many lost already.
Once she was positive all bears were accounted for, she’d collapse into bed. But until then, she’d search. The air hung heavy with the dank odor of battle, dried blood, and the ghosts of violence. A full day had passed, but Deep Creek was forever scarred from the agony that had ripped shifters apart on its forest floors.
Healing would take more than bandages and incense.
Damn lions. Always looking for a fight. The bears wouldn’t forget the day the lions attacked.
“Alicia?” The voice sounded from behind her, a hint of agitation in the tone. “Where are you going?”
She paused, steeling herself, and then turned.
Derek.
Concern clouded his face. Rarely one to show stress, the battle had shaken him profoundly, and deep hollows had formed under his eyes. Shell-shocked, yet still the strong alpha always concerned about those he cared about. Bria was fortunate to have such a powerful protector as mate.
“I’m checking for wounded.” Alicia pushed a lock of red hair behind her ear and cinched her ponytail. The after-battle taste of nausea and heat burned her throat and sat in her stomach like a rock. She didn’t need to hear Derek’s speech, but she knew it was coming.
“Alone?” He put his hands on his hips.
“I’ll be back before dark—there are several hours of daylight left.” A tingle of dread traveled up her spine. Though she loved being a medic and healer, battlefield trauma treatment was a bit beyond her training.
“You shouldn’t be by yourself. The lions might be prowling around looking for their own wounded. Or a stray bear to ambush.” Derek’s hair hung loose and limp around his shoulders. His beard was scraggly and he had a dark bruise over his eyebrow.
She’d never seen him look so rough.
Of course he’d try to stop her. He wasn’t being bossy. He worried. “I need to check thoroughly. Just in case.” He wasn’t the only one who worried, but she’d never forgive herself if she missed a wounded bear.
He tromped toward her, his steps heavy with exhaustion. “I’ll help. We’ve lost too many friends and family already. I’m not losing you too.”
“There’s nothing you can do to help.”
He stared into the forest and sniffed the air. “I can shift and we can cover more ground.”
“Go back to the cave. I’m sure Bria needs you right now. She’s been exposed to so many new things, some violent, in a short amount of time. I know she’s a strong woman, but it’s a tremendous amount for a human to process. She’s been thrown into the middle of this war, unprepared.”
Derek scowled. “I know.”
She touched his shoulder and looked into his eyes. “She needs you by her side, not left alone with a bunch of grumpy and wounded bears.”
He pulled away. “But she’s safe in the cave. You aren’t.”
“Seriously?” Alicia crossed her arms and formed the sourest face she could fake. “You really think I can’t take care of myself? I’ve been doing it a long time.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what? The lions have gone home with their tails between their legs.”
“I worry about you.” His voice softened.
“I know you do, and I appreciate it. I’m going to check the brush on the way to the creek then I’ll be back. I won’t be gone more than an hour or two.”
His scowl deepened, and he chewed his lip hard, annoyance flashing in his features. “You’re so stubborn.”
“Your mate needs you. Go.”
She almost smiled, but held back. It was easy to see why Bria was attracted to Derek. He’d always been a good friend, looking out for Alicia as they grew up together in the clan. Sometimes he was overprotective, but she understood why most women swooned over him.
Who didn’t want a giant bear hug from a good-looking and sweet man?

Enter to win a $20 Amazon Gift Card from Kerry Adrienne!

About Kerry Adrienne:
USA Today bestselling author Kerry Adrienne is repped by Marisa Corvisiero at Corvisiero Literary Agency. Kerry writes in many sub-genres of romance including paranormal, science fiction, erotic, m/m, time travel, and many more.

She loves history, science, music, and art and is the mom to three daughters, many cats, and various other small animals. She loves live music and traveling most anywhere. In addition to being an author, she’s a college instructor, artist, costumer, editor, and bad guitar player.

Jordan Shepherd has regrets. Big ones. When she makes a seemingly rash decision which potentially costs her everything, she must come face-to-face with her family and start rebuilding her life.

Cristiano Romero knows a little bit about starting over after a catastrophe. He is trying to make it as an on-air talent covering the X Games, yet he still has the heart of a competitor. When he crosses paths with Jordan, he finds himself wanting to compete in a whole new game.

Can Jordan and Cristiano come to grips with the paths not taken and begin a life together?

Love NaturallyBook 4

Love SeasonedBook 5

Love ClaimedBook 6

Jude’s SongBook 7

I have been lucky enough to live my own version of a romance novel. I married the guy who kissed me at summer camp. He told me on the night we met that he was going to marry me and be the father of my children. Eventually I stopped giggling when he said it, and we just celebrated our 28th wedding anniversary. We have two children. The oldest is in medical school, where he recently found and married the love of his life, and the youngest is now tackling middle school.

I write full time now. I have published over a dozen books and have several more underway. I volunteer my time to a variety of causes. I have worked as a Civil Rights Attorney and diversity advocate. I spent several years working for various social service agencies before becoming an attorney. In my spare time, I love to cook, decorate cakes and of course, I obsessively, compulsively read.

Like this:

Jackal, book one of the new hot and thrilling series Blazing Devils MC

A novel that mixes thriller and romance into a nail biting conclusion.

I was being hunted and I was helpless to stop it.

Kara

My sisters past was coming for me to take me for her sins. There were monsters around every corner. How much longer did I have? The only place. The only person I can turn to was the man I loved. He loved her though everyone loved Avery. Sacrifices need to be made. Choices I will always regret. This baby. His changed everything.

Jackal

Life fucked me over. I lost it all when she died and now her sister comes strolling back into town looking for help. My second chance with Avery was right in front of me. Kara would be my Avery. But life has a way of fucking with us all and now she needs. Letting go of the past and all the secrets it kept was the only way to save her.

With So many betrayals. So much heartache. Will she survive long enough to be saved? Can he love her for her and not her twin?

Sons of the Apocalypse MC series

The Sons of the Apocalypse MC always seem to fall for women who have far too much baggage.
But these guys are tough and will take on anything or anyone who tries to stand in their way.

Each book goes through the biker’s life and the woman he falls for, hunts, and then wins as his lady.
But nothing in life is that easy.
Roxanne Greening takes the reader into the world of OUTLAW MOTORCYCLE CLUBS and the romances that drive them.
Suitable for readers of 18+ due to violence and sexual situations.

Roxanne Greening is a mother of two young children and lives in the beautiful rural area in West Virginia, USA. It was because of her love for reading romances, that Roxanne decided to write her own. However, it is the MC romances that she enjoys writing the most. “Being able to become a rebel, an outlaw (in fiction) is a powerful thing.” And so Axel, the first book of the SONS OF THE APOCALYPSE, was published in August 2016.
Roxanne also enjoys to quilt, and secretly want to be a ninja.

Like this:

Life isn’t a fairytale. Sometimes you have to fight, sometimes let go, in order to get your happily ever after…

Find out what Josh Bennett needs to do to get his own happily ever after in the world of Knight Fashion with SEXIEST DAD ALIVE by M.Clarke…

Josh Bennett

It was a simple offer.

I invited Isla to rent a room in my five thousand square foot home. Plenty of rooms and plenty of space. But the second she moved in, I knew I was in trouble. I could handle wanting her when there was distance between us, but once we started to play house, all my pent up desire started knocking down walls.

That was my first mistake of many.

The private investigator I hired to track down my ex found her not far from where I live. I should have locked my past behind me, but something urged me to find her. I’m glad I did. But our union left me with a situation to be reckoned with.

When a new fire is lit and old flames rekindle, one will have to burn out.
The decisions I’ll have to make won’t be easy.
No matter what I choose, my heart will break.

It took me thirty minutes to get to her house. Not hours, not days. She lived thirty minutes from my house. Thirty freakin’ minutes. Inhaling a deep breath, I willed myself to calm down as I released the tight grip on the steering wheel. But panic slammed hard against my rib cage. I’d found her—well, technically the private investigator I had hired found her. But what the hell was I supposed to do next? I’d played out the scenario in my head while I drove. Knock on the door. When she answered, tell her I heard she lived nearby and thought I’d stop by to find out how she was doing. It all seemed simple and easy in my mind, but as I parked at the curb of her house under a grand oak tree, nerves knotted inside my stomach. Fuck it! I’m an idiot. Starting the engine, I decided to leave the past behind and lock it for good, but then I spotted a movement inside the house. I killed the engine and became a stalker. I jumped in my seat when my phone ringing startled me. Staring at the phone, I eased my breathing to a steadier beat. Wondering if any one of the neighbors spotted me loitering in the car put me on edge. Heart still thumping, I read the text. A text from Isla usually put a grin on my face, but not at that moment. Every single muscle tensed—I couldn’t shit if I wanted to.

Isla: Where are you? Heat rushed to my face. Lie. Me: I’m about to head home. Where are you? Isla: Home. I meant your home. Me: It’s your home too. You live there. Isa: I made dinner. Thought we could eat together. My lips curled at her kind gesture. Me: Sounds great. I’ll see you in an hour. Isla: See ya.

An hour. I’d have thirty minutes to drive back home and thirty minutes to say hello and leave. Or just stare at the house. Grow some balls, Josh. What’s the harm in saying hello? Placing my hand on the door handle, I tugged a little, but my planted legs refused to budge as my heart hammered faster with every effort I made to get out of the car. It’s been almost two freakin’ years since she disappeared out of your life without a goodbye or explanation, that’s why, you idiot. She didn’t care about you when she left, and she still doesn’t give a fuck. Get the fuck out of there. Five minutes rolled by. Ten … fifteen … twenty. I had to go soon. Clenching my teeth, I shoved myself out of the car and forced my feet to the front door before I chickened out again. As I passed by the window, I caught a glimpse of Shelly, unclear but definitely her. Her back was toward me, but I remembered her face perfectly. How could I ever forget my first love? My first heartbreak. That woman made my heart expand to the fullest, only to burst it with her lies. Her blonde hair, shorter than before, zapped me back to our past, and my heart raced as I remembered all the good and bad we shared. And the scent of the perfume she had worn every day—Poison, how fitting—whiffed through my nostrils and pulled up old memories. The pain of her absence started to chip away the wall I had built and started to crawl into my heart. She bent out of my line of sight. The sun dipping to end the day reflected on the window and blinded me. What she held in her arms when the glare faded, or I should say whom she held in her arms, stopped me in my tracks. I stared in shock and confusion. My heart lurched in my throat. The tightness trapped all the oxygen in my lungs, and I couldn’t breathe. What the fuck? A baby? Her baby? The baby couldn’t be more than a year. Doing the math … ten months of pregnancy, plus a year or less for the baby’s age, equaled two years. About two years ago, she disappeared from my life. Was the baby mine? Or did she cheat on me? Anger flared, and the rage that still lived in the pit of my stomach resurfaced. I’d always suspected she ran off with another man. Maybe she did cheat and got pregnant. Perhaps she didn’t have the guts to tell me, so she ran. Things didn’t add up. I pulled back before she saw me, and I rushed to the safety nest of my car. I became that boy with a shattered heart again as I shrank down in my seat to soak it all in. But what if the baby was mine? What if she lied to me? Would she? I should have left my past behind. But once I located Pandora’s box, I had to open it. It would eat at me day and night if I never knew the truth. Oh, fuck me. Okay. I had to gather myself, figure out how to find the truth. But not that day. With my poker face on, I drove out of there as fast as I could.

See what people are saying about the Knight Fashion series:

“Sexiest Couple Alive is a spectacularly exhilarating and breathlessly sensual story that shows us that scars can be beautiful and mistakes can lead you to the best things in life. ”

-Amber from The Wonderings of One Person

“Sexiest Man Alive has it all; heartbreak, drama and excitement! M.Clarke has once again completely blown me away, she had me at the edge of my seat and left me wanting for more.”

-Lady Amber’s Reviews & PR

“5 Stars!!! Yes 5 stars baby!!! Wow!!! OMG I am at a loss for words!!! This book was HOT, Sexy and suspense! I can’t believe the ending and WAIT for book 2!!!! Nathan Cross is EVER women’s dream ….ALPHA male, Model and yet a sweet warm hearted guy! And Olivia she is a CONFIDENT, sexy and knows what she wants! She triumphs and struggles which makes her relatable and lovable as a character Grab this today you won’t be disappointed and make sure you get ready to be hooked on a new series.”

-FMR Book Grind, Stacey

“I am already anxious for the next book as I can’t wait to find out what happens next! I have been a huge fan of M. Clarke’s since first reading her work a few years ago, and I really love her Something Great series. Nathan is a character that I felt really connected to right away though, and I could not put this book down.”

– Ramblings From This Chick

The Author:

International Bestselling, Award-Winning, Author Mary Ting/M. Clarke resides in Southern California with her husband and two children. She enjoys oil painting and making jewelry. Writing her first novel, Crossroads Saga, happened by chance. It was a way to grieve the death of her beloved grandmother, and inspired by a dream she once had as a young girl. When she started reading new adult novels, she fell in love with the genre. It was the reason she had to write one-Something Great.

Check out the other books in the Knight Fashion series!

SEXIEST MAN ALIVE (Knight Fashion Book 1)

Nathan Cross is a struggling actor waiting tables at a local restaurant to make ends meet while he attends endless auditions. Though his hopeful career moves at a slow pace, Olivia is the strength and sunshine in his life… until she leaves him. One day, he is offered a contract with a modeling agent, leading him to work for Knight Fashion Magazine—a dream job he never imagined would become a reality.

Olivia swore she would always put her career first and that’s precisely what she did when she left Nathan. Having a deadbeat dad and watching her mom work two jobs to make ends meet have been her driving force. When she is offered a modeling career, she drops everything—even the love of her life—and moves to New York. Though Nathan and Olivia try to steer clear of one another, working for the same fashion magazine causes their paths to cross again and old emotions are awakened.

Can Nathan forgive Olivia or will he take the next step with the woman he is currently dating? Will Olivia do everything she can to break them apart? Or will she choose her career over her heart… again?

SEXIEST COUPLE ALIVE (Knight Fashion Book 2)

Nathan Cross is living his dream. Not only is he modeling for Knight Fashion Magazine, recently voted “sexiest man alive,” but he is dating a beautiful photographer who could be his new future. When he unexpectedly reunites with his past love, his world crashes around him. Two loves. The past or the future: which one will he choose?

Olivia’s past choices come back to haunt her and could ruin everything she has worked so hard to build. Troy has the power to destroy any hope of happiness. She will do everything to keep that from happening, even if it means giving up her second chance with Nathan. Lies. Revenge. Scandal. Olivia could lose it all.

COVER REVEAL

Missing Beats

By K.L. Shandwick

To Jo, rock stars = Fame. Money. Music.Sex. A lifestyle she literally has no respect for.

Josie Carmichael’s no rock star.

She’s not even famous and she doesn’t particularly like musicians, but when a boy from her childhood reconnects unexpectedly, her life is put on hold.

With opposing lifestyles and conflicted feelings for the special boy she used to know and the sexy-as-sin man Kane is now, will she ever find common ground?

Strangers as adults with a strong childhood bond, Josie and Kane’s world becomes closer than either of them could ever have fathomed. This brings emotional challenges beyond anything they could ever prepare for, or have imagined.

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Writing came relatively late in life for KL after a challenge by a friend led to The Everything Trilogy. She loves creating new characters and story lines. KL has worked in the health and social care sector for most of her adult life, so to have the opportunity to step out of serious roles and create colourful characters is very rewarding. She enjoys where they take her and each character has his or her own voice. KL doesn’t use prepared outlines for her stories, preferring the characters to take their own direction as the story progresses. These days KL lives in the Yorkshire countryside in the UK where she writes full time.

The dreamscape is a place of magic and mystery and meaning. In that nocturnal realm, ideas, images, sensations and emotions drift on the currents of the unconscious mind.

Morpheus the Dream Falcon is most at home in that domain. By night, the one of a kind winged immortal soars on those winds, observing and sometimes even entering the slumbering thoughts of another. By day, he is a highly sought after mercenary feared by his immortal kin for both his unmatched ferocity and his wicked obsidian talons. None of his prey escapes him.

Cecilia Ramirez y Aguilera is the one he truly wants. But the striking oracle of the Court of the Light Immortals is closed to the handsome outlaw, even in her dreams. Broken by unimaginable losses, the seer is but a slave, subject to the whims of a master who is mad and without mercy.

Drawn together by fate, their impossible passion ignites. But will that be enough given the dangerous secrets each keeps from the other? Or will mistrust and the desire for revenge threaten to unravel the powerful magic that binds them?

The Author:

The New York Times bestselling author of the Black Cat Records series of novels.
Romance with subtext.
Reimagining classic stories with sexy rock stars and thought provoking issues.

Love Evolution, Love Revolution, and Love Resolution are a BRUTAL STRENGTH centered trilogy, combining the plot underpinnings of Shakespeare with the drama, excitement, and indisputable sexiness of the rock ‘n roll industry.

Things take a bit of an edgier, once upon a time turn with the TEMPEST series. These pierced, tatted, and troubled Seattle rockers are young and on the cusp of making it big, but with serious obstacles to overcome that may prevent them from ever getting there.

Rock stars, myths, and legends collide with paranormal romance in a totally mesmerizing way in the MAGIC series.

When Michelle is not prowling the streets of her Texas town listening to her rock music much too loud, she is putting her daydreams down on paper or traveling the world with her family and friends, sometimes for real, and sometimes just for pretend as she takes the children to school and back.

Excerpt:

When you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever. – Alexandre Dumas

Prologue

June 1998

Cecilia

“Hey, Mamá.”

“Hola, mejita.” My mother turned smiling indulgently at the ever present headphones around my neck and the huge stack of music and fashion magazines I toted into the kitchen with me. “Dinner’s almost ready.” She used a spatula to flip something that sizzled and released a deliciously garlicky aroma into the air. Plátanos. My mouth watered and my empty stomach grumbled. “What’s new in the entertainment world?”

“Not much.” I lifted the Rolling Stone magazine to show her the cover and made a face. “Except Star Angel is breaking up with Brad.”

“Chica doesn’t stay with any one man long does she?”

“I know, right?” I shook my head in disbelief of my favorite diva’s man eating ways. The blunt ends of my straight hair swished against my shoulders. The halter and loose linen shorts I wore weren’t cutting edge fashion like Star preferred and I dreamed about, but it was way too hot in the rainforest for haute couture.

“Didn’t those two have a child together?”Mamá asked returning her attention to the stove.

“Yeah. That’s the saddest part.” I set aside the magazine. I planned to finish the article later. Being an aspiring singer, I was interested in finding out where Star thought her present heartache would take her professionally. For now I followed my nose across the bamboo floors that were smooth against my bare feet. “Mmm, mofongo.” I smiled widely. Plantains mashed with garlic, chicharrones, and olive oil. My favorite Puerto Rican dish. I snatched a pinch from one of the starchy slices on the paper towel lined plate.

“Sorry, Mamá.” I blew on my prize to cool it, and returned to the table my father had built using wood from an Ausubo tree prized for its decay and termite resistant properties. I popped the crispy morsel into my mouth and savored the rich flavor for a moment. “What’s the special occasion?” I asked her before licking the salty garlic residue from my fingertips. Making mofongo was time consuming. It wasn’t an everyday treat. Blue marlin filets were laid out alongside the mortar and pestle she would use to mash the fried plantains. “And when did Papá go to the north coast?” Our home in the El Yunque Rainforest was far from the side of the island where that particular fish flourished.

“So many questions, mejita.” She flipped off the gas burner and turned to face me blotting perspiration from her forehead with a kitchen towel and lifting her glossy ebony hair away from her neck so the late evening breeze would cool it. “Did you and Millie get the herbs?”

“Si, Mamá. They were easy to find once we…after we…” Carajo. Shit “We have all of them. Everything on the list.” I pressed my lips flat, kicking myself for almost admitting how my twin had helped me locate them.

Unfortunately for me, my mamá knew me too well to overlook my verbal stumbling. Her grey eyes narrowed. I nervously shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I swore that woman was psychic. At least she had an unsettling ability to read me, even if that wasn’t her gifting.

“Cecilia Ramirez y Aguilera. You know better! Your papá and I have told you over and over again. No scrying! I…” She snapped her mouth shut as my papá appeared striding into the kitchen wearing only cutoff shorts. His six foot six inch frame overshadowed Millie who stood a full foot shorter like me. Hips swaying rhythmically, blissfully unaware of the trouble I had gotten us into, she was humming some silly tune I had composed for her when we were kids.

“What’s wrong, Panacea, mi preciosa?” My father’s voice had a lilting musical quality similar to my own. Millie had inherited his angelic beauty, not that I was jealous. I doted on my sweet sibling just as everyone else in my family did.

My father’s ruby-red gaze hardened as he glanced back and forth between my mamá and me. I gulped around the growing knot in my throat while twisting my hands together. I knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. He wouldn’t be deterred.

Millie shot me a questioning look. I gave my head a subtle shake cautioning her not to give anything away. I was always treading into troubled waters. I wanted to avoid dragging her down with me for once.

“Raphael. Don’t be mad.” My mamá held his gaze using her most soothing tone. “But I fear the girls were scrying when they went out for herbs earlier today.”

“What?” he roared his displeasure in a deliberately measured volume. If he chose to he could reduce a solid structure to rubble with only the power of his utterance. Nevertheless, Mamá’s colorful Fiestaware dishes rattled ominously on the open shelves. He snapped open his wings, fourteen feet of intimidating span, several inches thick yet as transparent as if they had been fashioned from flawless glass. Dazzling when reflecting direct sunlight, they were most mesmerizing on a cloudless night, when they sparkled with the light of the Creator’s stars.

An unstable lapis coffee cup tumbled to the floor shattering into jagged pieces in front of me. I took a step back and assumed a protective stance in front of my twin, not because Papá would ever hurt us. He loved us, both of us…only unequally. But he frightened Millie whenever he got angry.

Her pretty sea foam green eyes wide Millie pressed closer. She might be his favorite but I didn’t hold that against her. Unlike me, she was easy to love, and she was my twin. We stuck together. No matter what. Mamá said we were sympatico, dos uno, two parts that made up one whole. I took her trembling hand and squeezed to reassure her. I felt our emotions settling the instant we touched.

“I am extremely disappointed in you, my daughter. I don’t make rules to make your life difficult. You know they’re for your safety. I’ve told you countless times how violent our immortal world can be and how critical it is that we maintain our anonymity in it.” The golden skin over his bulging biceps stretched beneath the strain as he crossed his tensed arms across his chest. “Why take such a risk for a handful of herbs, Cecilia?” His gaze narrowed further. “Did you forget? Is that your excuse for disobeying me this time? Or do you think that you know better since you seem so ready to set out on your own?”

My mamá frowned as she rose from the floor where she had been scooping up the broken pieces of pottery. Millie’s fingers tightened in mine.

“I didn’t forget. I didn’t think…”

“That’s the problem. Most of the time you don’t think at all, Cecilia.”

His criticism made my stomach cramp, but I tilted up my chin defiantly. “You’re overreacting. It only took us a moment. It’s unlikely anyone was around to notice.” I didn’t have it in me to back down whenever he laid into me. So I just dove deeper into it.

“I know you think my rules are too confining.” He shook his head disappointedly. “That our home is a cage to you. That you desperately yearn for your freedom. What you fail to see is that everything I do is done out of love for you and your sister and a desire to protect you. I have years of knowledge and experience that you lack. Your mamá and I pray to the Creator daily that you and your sister will never experience what the worst of our kind have to offer.”

I sighed, ducked my head and mumbled, “I’m sorry I disobeyed you.”

“Your apology would be of little consolation to your mother and me if you’re both dead, Cecilia. You know as well as I do that even though it only takes a moment for you to scry, that act leaves behind a unique residue that another foresight gifted immortal can trace even days later.”

I nodded somberly my guilt increasing as I felt Millie shaking beside me. She had an active imagination, one fueled by her voracious reading habit. It didn’t take more than a suggestion of danger by Papá to set it in motion.

“Besides, using your gifts scares the mortals,” he continued. “It’s a delicate enough balance for us living among them and having them accept us as it is.”

“You’re right, Papá.” I nodded obediently.

His anger seemingly spent, his expression softened. He slowly retracted his massive wings. Though powerful enough to launch him and a passenger into the sky within a single heartbeat, they were completely invisible when tucked into his shoulder blades.

My mother set the shards of pottery she had gathered on the counter and tucked her curvy body into her husband’s rock solid side. Throwing his arm around her shapely shoulders, he pulled her closer. They had been married for over a century yet the passion between them remained visibly strong. “You leave me no choice but to punish you, Cecilia,” he declared sternly. “No television. No excursions to town. Not even to assist your mamá with her healings.”

“But Papá,” I began. “I have so much to do before I move…”

“No.” He shushed me with a sharp gesture. “I’ve been far too lenient with you. You need to learn once and for all to use better judgment.” His eyes flared, glowing red embers within a fire. Familiar with that look, I braced. “You will also sleep tonight in the guestroom without your sister.”

A very harsh punishment indeed. I didn’t sleep well when separated from Millie. Tears pricked my eyes, but I curled my fingernails into my palms refusing to cry. I wasn’t going to let on how much his discipline upset me.

“Is that really necessary, Raph? You know neither one can sleep when separated from the other.”

“I know, my love. That’s why I’m doing it.” He gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear as he peered down at her. “The lesson must sink in for both of them. They need to look after each other. One day soon, they will be on their own. I’ve tried my best to prepare them for the world they are so set on experiencing but obviously there are lessons yet to be learned.” His gaze returned to me. “There will be no more talk of you moving out, not until I see proof that you are maturing.” I knew his tone meant his decision was final, but he had been right when he said I was desperate to be out on my own. To be so close and to have that taken away…I couldn’t, I wouldn’t let it go.

“Nevertheless.” His expression grew sterner. “Your questionable judgment puts you and your sister at undue risk. You know she is your shadow forever looking to you for direction. I can’t permit it.”

I lowered my gaze my eyes stinging with the burn of bitter disappointment.

“Papá.” Millie moved forward placing her platinum locks on his shoulder. The light color matched his exactly, so rare for Dark Immortals. “Por favor.” She reached for his hand. “Please, don’t take this away from Cici. She has an apartment already and a waitressing job at the Blue Parrot.”

“I’m sorry. It’s no longer open for discussion, little one, maybe in time I will reconsider.” His expression troubled, he shook his head and his crystal clear wings emerged slowly forming sharp peaks over each shoulder. His focus shifted to the open window. His chin tilted toward it and his nostrils flared as if he had scented something unpleasant. He turned to my mother. “I’m going to make a quick pass above the trees to make sure everything is safe.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head and gently squeezed my sister’s shoulder before turning to me. “Set the table for your mamá . I will return shortly.”

*****

“¡Ándale!” I hissed low setting the heavy backpack stuffed with my belongings at my feet. “If you’re going to come with me, honey, then come. Otherwise stay and get back in bed with your book. And don’t tell them anything until tomorrow.” Hopefully by then it would be too late for Papá to drag me home. I tapped my flip flops against the spongy mat of decomposed vegetation outside our guest bedroom window, my impatience leaving squishy indentations on the forest floor.

I loved my parents but lately I chafed daily under their authority. I refused to stick around the undetermined period of time it would take for Papá to change his mind. If it had been up to me I would have left home right after high school. If I had maybe I would already have saved up enough money working in Old San Juan to hop on a plane to Miami or Los Angeles, somewhere less isolated than the island, somewhere my singing career might actually have a legitimate chance to take off, somewhere full of the excitement and drama I craved.

Anywhere but slow-paced and boring here.

“Of course I’m coming with you, as if I’d let you leave me behind,” Millie huffed throwing her own backpack out the window a moment before her narrow butt poked through it. “You’re such a pain in my rear, Cici.” She threw one tanned leg over the wooden sill, then the other, shimmying her torso toward the ground.

I reached up to help her, placing my hands on her hips. She dropped gracefully onto the rain softened soil beside me and retrieved her pack. Our bungalow style home was higher off the ground than stateside ones, a practicality to keep it above the floodwaters during the rainy season.

“Do you always have to wear white?” I complained with just enough volume to be heard over the chorus of nighttime insects and the ‘Couqui’ cries of the tree frogs. I didn’t want to wake our slumbering parents. They had both gone into their room after dinner, but being Dark Immortals whose internal clocks were set by the moon they would arise as soon as it reached its pinnacle. “Would it kill you to choose some color for a change?” The brighter and more contrasting the better in my opinion, something like the fushia top and indigo shorts I had changed into for our escape. Plus, though I often complained about Papá’s constant lessons in self-preservation, they hadn’t been entirely lost on me. White stuck out in the dark.

No one gets hurt if they are invisible to their enemies, Cecilia.

“It’s a long walk to the falls where Ernesto is meeting us,” I told her. “You’re going to get dirty and you’re going to stand out like a pale faced tourista in the market.”

“But white’s my best color.” Flip flops just like mine clicked against the loam on the well-worn hiking trail as she trotted to keep pace with me. Our shoes were the only thing that matched tonight. If we let our mamá have her way she would still be dressing us exactly alike, even though we were way too old for that type of thing. Besides we were fraternal, not identical twins.

“Do you think Ernesto asked Jaime to come along?” Her eyes sparkled brightly with excitement. I think she would have bounced on her toes but her pack was too heavy. I bit back a grin. Jaime was a cute boy, sweet and a dreamer like she was. She had been crushing on him for months. Their feelings seemed to be reciprocal though neither had been brave enough to make a first move.

Ernesto on the other hand was bold to the point of being aggressive, as different from his brother in personality as I was to Millie. I actually enjoyed the thrill of danger she only liked reading about in her books. Ernesto appealed to my impulsive rebellious nature. Thus this impromptu late night rendezvous at the falls. Mamá wouldn’t approve. She would never allow a boy with a reputation like Ernesto take me into town. I didn’t really like the idea of owing him a favor. But he had a truck and I had no other option for the long drive into Old San Juan.

There weren’t many guys willing to defy my father. He was a legendary Dark Immortal, and though mortals like Ernesto didn’t suspect that, they could sense his power. He was an Ancient after all, one of only four who had guarded the four gates of the Great City on the Otherside. Beautiful and brilliant, their curiosity had lured them to the above ground world. Once angelic, they turned vampiric the moment they had risen from the earth to partake of its temptations and pleasures. Papá was completely immune to the sun, unlike the legions of vampires he inadvertently spawned before he learned to regulate his thirst. He was the strongest of the four Ancients, which was why with Papá as his first lieutenant, Apollyon had easily defeated his challengers to establish his throne far beneath the city of New Orleans.

Though not really as powerful as our father, Millie and I shared a rare talent, one disconcerting to humans and immortals alike. My family was not the only Dark Immortals who found the isolation of the rainforest to be an excellent refuge, but we were definitely the most feared. Outcasts among outcasts. Our own kind even shied away from us.

We were tolerated and sheltered because of my mother. She was a healer. A bruja. A witch doctor. Unparalleled in her craft, loved and revered because of it. The Creator’s magic was stamped into every cell of her marrow, an aftereffect from when her parents had done the unthinkable, partaking of the forbidden water of the Spring of the Afterlife while yet living. Assisting her over the years I had seen her heal grievous wounds of both mortals and immortals. Although our blood was much less potent, that same gift of healing had been passed along to Millie and me. But our chief gifting was the ability to predict the future of a person if we touched someone or something important to them. In some cases we could even catch glimpses into their past. We also had an advanced ability to scry for lost people or items like those missing herbs.

Millie reached for my hand and held it as we continued down the narrow path to the waterfall. I smiled at her appreciating her ready affection. I wasn’t as confident about leaving tonight as I was pretending to be. But I couldn’t hide anything from Millie, especially my emotions. She knew I wished I could be more sensitive and caring. Easier to love. Like she was. Like Mamá . No surprise that after only one meeting with my mother, our father had insisted upon her release as a final reward for his long and faithful service to Apollyon. Then he had resigned his commission and walked away from all the privileges his dangerous but powerful position had once afforded him.

Millie had my father’s looks and my mother’s inner spiritual beauty.

Me? I was a compilation of my parents, too, just a confusing, jumbled one. Mamá fussed at me whenever I bemoaned the less than fortunate mixture

“Cecilia Ramirez y Aguilera,” she was fond of telling me, “los árboles no están dejando ver el bosque. You can’t see the forest for the trees. You are different si, but muy bonita in your own unique way if only you would realize it. Believe in it and accept yourself the way the Creator intended you to be.”

I tucked a strand of my soft as silk but unsettling two toned platinum and ebony hair back beneath the black bandana I usually wore scarf style to conceal it. If only I had a demon’s ability to cloak it or a shape shifter’s talent to take a whole other form. If only I could I would get rid of the patrician nose I had inherited from my father. If only I could make my hair one uniform shade instead of pitch black superficially with underlying layers of platinum that reflected the sun during the day and sparkled with the illumination of the stars at night like my father’s wings.

The fact that my silver eyes glowed like the new moon whenever my emotions were heightened added to the freak show of my appearance. I was not surprised that people from our small town in the rainforest kept their distance from me, but it still hurt that they did.

If we had been born into a different time, my sister and I would have been honored, like the oracles of old who predicted the future in a time when immortals had walked openly upon the earth and had been worshipped by men as gods. But there was no honor for our talents in a modern society where everything supernatural had to be explained scientifically. These days we had to hide our gifts as carefully as I concealed my hair.

Millie and I stepped out from beneath the shadowed shelter of the tropical trees and entered the moonlit rocky clearing surrounding the base of the falls. An icy prickle of awareness made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I felt like someone was watching us. I darted a quick glance back at the dark forest. I didn’t see anyone. The nighttime sounds remained undisturbed. Chastising myself for being overly paranoid like my papá, I carefully picked my way over the uneven surface with my twin.

“Mamacita,” Ernesto greeted, pushing away from the woody trunk of the Banyan tree where he had been leaning. Prowling confidently toward us, his tight jeans hugged his athletic form and the thick rope chain around his neck sparkled in the moonlight. My heartrate kicked up louder in my ears than the roar of the falls as he leisurely scanned me. He looked at me as if I were his dinner, his lips slowly lifting into a cocky grin. “I wasn’t expecting your sister,” he purred stretching out his arm to me. I placed my hand in his, feeling all warm and shivery when his fingers closed tightly around mine. His gaze flicked to Millie his expression darkening with displeasure he didn’t attempt to hide. “I thought you said she wasn’t coming until tomorrow.”

“Change of plans.” I shrugged. “Why don’t we pick up your brother and make it a double date?”

“He’s working late.”

My sister’s face fell. She wore her emotions out in the open for all to see.

A calculating glint narrowed Ernesto’s eyes. “But I can call and ask him to meet us at the apartment. By the time we arrive he should be done with his shift.” He slid his cell from the pocket of his pressed jeans.

I was sure he hoped Jaime would occupy Millie while he got me alone. I knew he wanted to take things to the next level. In theory, I agreed. Almost twenty-one and still a virgin, I took it as proof of my unattractiveness. Not only that, it was a hindrance to writing sexy lyrics when I had no frame of reference. It was just another way Millie and I differed. She was holding out for true love, like Mamá and Papá had found, like characters in the British Classics she preferred to read.

Tugging me along, Ernesto guided me along the path to his old truck. His free hand slid to the small of my back the tips of his fingers resting on the swell of my ass. Yeah, he was definitely expecting some action in repayment for his assistance tonight. If Millie noticed where his hand lay, lower than I was comfortable with truth be told, she didn’t say anything. She remained a silent chaperone on the trail beside us.

Ernesto opened the passenger side door for me. I tossed my backpack inside, stepped onto the muddy running board and scooted to the middle of the bench seat. Millie followed. The hinge creaked and slammed as Ernesto shut us in. He flashed a suave smile as he rounded the hood. My stomach fluttered with nerves. For some reason I couldn’t summon any anticipation, even as I tried imagining receiving one of his slow kisses.

I tensed as he twisted the latch on the driver’s side. Suddenly, a shadow denser than the dark night fell over him. A harsh clanging filled the air. Face lifting, his expression turned into one of terror. My blood chilled as he gasped throwing his body backward against the vehicle so hard it rocked. A moment later clawed feet tore into the skin of his shoulders. Blood welled before he was ripped away up into the air. Panic froze me in its icy grip until Millie shattered it with her scream.

I turned and saw the stone face of a gargoyle with saggy eyes and a horn in the center of his forehead peering into the window on her side. My panic morphed into heart slamming full blown fear. We knew from Papá’s lessons that gargoyles were Apollyon’s preferred envoys.

“Lock your door!” I shouted, quickly jamming my body into the vacant driver’s seat. I turned the key and started the ignition. Motor roaring to life, I yanked the shift stick into drive and slammed my foot down on the gas pedal. The truck wheels spun in the mud for a terrifying moment before we finally lurched into motion.

My teeth rattled as the vehicle bumped in and out of potholes on the way down the mountain. Before I could catch a breath, a heavy form crashed onto the hood. It rocked the truck frame creasing the metal. Blood splashed across the windshield before it rolled off. Millie and I screamed in unison at the sight of what I knew to be Ernesto’s headless body. I flipped on the windshield wipers to clear the glass. I didn’t have time to process. I had to drive. I had to get somewhere safe fast. I had to protect my sister.

The steering wheel vibrated in my clammy hands. It was hard to hold onto because of our speed and the jarring surface of the road. I gripped it tighter and rammed the accelerator to the floorboard. Shoulders hunched, I concentrated on the path in front of me, scraping my bandana out of my eyes and peering into the night. Every muscle was tense, anticipating the gargoyles’ return. The old truck engine screamed in protest as I taxed it. My heart beat so hard it made my chest hurt. Millie pressed closer. I could feel her shaking. I opened my mouth to tell her to get back to her side and put on her seat belt but my vision started to cloud.

No, no, no…not now.

The familiar chill of a premonition flooded my veins like ice water. My racing heart seemed to pause between one beat and the next. Millie’s eyes beamed a radiant crystalline green at me. Mine were a ghostly grey reflection in the shiny surface of hers. The outside world disappeared. The only reality in the black void was the warmth of my twin’s fingers interlaced with mine.

Impossibly we were propelled across time and space arriving on the open lawn in front of our cottage. A horrible scream rent the air. My mother. If my spirit form could have gotten any colder it would have turned into solid ice.

I tried to move toward the sound of her voice even though I knew from past experience that it would do no good. My body and Millie’s were back in the truck fleeing from danger while our spirits existed here suspended between breaths as silent witnesses to a future we didn’t want to see.

Smoking flames licked the walls of our home. Dark arrows zinged through the air released from the bows of the green skinned woodland elves who wielded them. Behind them a line of vampires with glowing red eyes and black dusters that skimmed the ground waited at attention, arms crossed over, claw tipped fingers curled into their biceps, ready to enter the action if necessary.

The front door suddenly burst open and flew off its hinges. My papá stepped through the opening, his features fierce and his beautiful wings unfurled. Their brilliant crystal sheen reflected the angry fire that raged behind him. I opened my mouth exhaling a silent scream when I saw all the black arrows that had found their mark within his body. The shafts protruded from his bare chest, from his arms and his legs, all drenched with his blood.

Mamá stood at his back, her ivory sleeping gown adorned with disturbing splashes of red. Papá was shielding her, but her face was pale, too pale.

Another volley of arrows whizzed through the air. Millie’s mouth opened like mine but no sound came out.

My father staggered his body jerking as each new projectile found its mark. My mother sobbed. The sound of her despair shredded my spirit even as more arrows ripped into my papá’s flesh.

Red gaze brighter than the flames, my father turned his head away from the elves. His platinum hair was a halo of pure light but his glare was a dark promise of retribution focusing on an auburn headed figure standing off to one side leaning casually on an ebony staff. The expression on his unhandsome face implied boredom, but I knew that it was a deception. After all, he was the Father of Lies.

“Raph,” my mother wheezed. “Drink.” She lifted her arm up offering him her wrist, and he took it, incisors elongating as he bent his head piercing her delicate flesh. His broken body pulled straighter with each deep pull that he took.

“Enough.” The auburn headed man made a slicing motion in the air with his staff. It morphed into a wickedly sharp scythe. “Step aside, Raphael. I have indulged you long enough this night. I have need of Panacea. She is too valuable as a healer. I have changed my mind about letting you have her. I am here to reclaim what is rightfully mine.”

Even within the spirit realm I swayed beneath the authority of his persuasive voice. Not an Offspring. Not just any Progeny. One of the Favored.

“Over my dead body, Apollyon.” My father’s eyes blazed.

No! I shouted my protest without any sound. Don’t antagonize him, Papá, please. This was the Destroyer. The ruler of the In Between. The one he had continually warned us about. I tried to move again but failed.

“That is assured already, Raphael. It will be my pleasure to send you back to the Otherside. Only this time you’ll pay the toll and cross the Styx the way everyone else does… as a shade.” The demon laughed and seemed to grow in size. “I implore you to desist from exsanguinating from the lovely Panacea as those arrows are obsidian tipped. Even if you drain every drop of blood from her desirable body, you are only delaying the inevitable.”

“No,” my mother gasped. For an immortal obsidian meant permanent injury and death if the wound was severe enough. And my poor papá’s injuries were severe. He looked like a pincushion. Tears leaked from my mother’s eyes. She and my father exchanged a longing look. Mamá slid her hand along my papá’s stubble darkened cheek and he covered it with his own. The love between them, the depth of their pain, the resignation to their fate, witnessing all of that broke something inside of me.

For there was something Apollyon did not know. My father’s impending death ensured hers as well.

My mother inhaled sharply as my father, the legendary Raphael, crumpled. His majestic wings seemed to shrivel. He dropped to his knees. Behind him the walls of the house he had built collapsed inward on themselves as if already mourning his loss. My mamá slid down beside him offering him her wrist again but he refused it.

“Go, preciosa,” he pleaded, his voice still strong but the cost of saying those words to the woman who was his other half was plain to see. The ravaged lines of his face deepened.

“Never.” Ebony hair skimming the blood splotched skin of her slim shoulders, she shook her head in refusal.

“Leave,” he whispered. “You must. There may be some way to reverse the damage to you.”

“No.” She moved in front of him, hands stroking his cheeks tenderly as she did every day, as if no one else existed but the two of them, as if they had all the time in the world to express their affection. Even among Apollyon’s minions I heard murmured misgivings. She lifted his pierced and bleeding hands to her lips and rained kisses across them. “Where you go, I go. Always.”

Seeming to use the last of his remaining strength my father caught her as she suddenly slumped forward. Slowly he lifted his head and stared at the spot where Millie and I observed. Though it wasn’t possible, it seemed to me that he saw us. A tear spilled from his eye.

A single tear.

A crimson tear.

One of regret?

Or one of condemnation toward me?

Had Apollyon discovered our location because of the scrying Millie and I had done?

Despair superseded guilt as I watched my father wrap his arms tightly around my mother as if to absorb her into himself. Then he closed his eyes, never again to reopen them.

“What is this?” Apollyon roared only just then beginning to realize the truth. That my parents were a Fated couple. When one died, so did the other. Forever together. Never apart.

Flames flickered behind my parent’s forms. Bright sparks lifted into the stars of the black night. Our cottage became their funeral pyre. Blackness suddenly descended over my eyes. I blinked trying to clear it. I wanted to see my parents one last time but it was not to be. I had no control over when the visions came or went.

My spirit slamming back inside my body, I glanced in the truck’s rearview mirror, noticing the plume of smoke billowing above the forest tree line. I knew with dreaded certainty that it was from our burning home. The shadowy branches of the tree line along the road seemed to reach for our vehicle as we barreled by them. Droplets of Ernesto’s blood trickled across the windshield reminiscent of my father’s last tear.

“No, no, no,” my sister chanted. She knew as well as I did that our vision had been a glimpse into a very near and certain future.

I whipped the wheel around without letting off on the gas. My elbow hit the door. Millie slid into me. We had to go back. Back to the cottage. Back to save our parents. The fire had started, but maybe if we hurried we could alter what we had foreseen.

But there would be no awakening from this horrible dream. The dark night became darker still as one of the gargoyles landed hard on the hood of the truck, the weight of his stone form indenting a deeper wedge in the metal than where Ernesto had fallen. Severely damaged, the engine abruptly locked. The vehicle rocked back and forth from the force of impact as momentum carried us forward.

I screamed. My chin smashed into the steering wheel. I bit through my tongue. My body collided with Millie as we tumbled around inside the hard unforgiving confines of the cabin. I blacked out briefly. When I regained awareness the vehicle was deadly still and Millie was slumped in a ball on the floorboard beside me.

Before I could reach for her the crumpled doors of the vehicle were ripped from their hinges. Bloodless concrete hands snatched me from my perch. I kicked and squirmed trying to break loose but to no avail.

“Be still, little girl.” Malevolent statue grey eyes flickering with a fluorescent hue beamed down at me before he snapped his head to the left. The nostrils at the end of his snout flared. “The Master will arrive shortly.” He dropped me to my feet on the ground in front of him. My bandana was lost. My hair was in my eyes. My mouth tasted like copper. Every muscle in my body was sore. And my heart was completely broken.

The saggy eyed horned gargoyle stomped toward us with Millie in his arms. Her breathing sounded shallow. Her eyes were closed. I tried to dislodge the gargoyles’ cold grip from my shoulders but couldn’t. His claws only dug deeper into my flesh.

“Millie, wake up,” I pleaded but she didn’t reply. Precious minutes passed while I was forced to stand alone alternating my tear blurred gaze from Millie to the smoke above the trees knowing what was unfolding only a few miles away but helpless to do anything to change it.

Just when I felt like I was about to collapse, headlights from an approaching vehicle illuminated the wreckage of the truck first, then the horned gargoyle who held my sister cradled in his massive stone arms.

Keep breathing, Amelia. Don’t die on me.

“Kneel.” Marble hands dug unforgivingly into my shoulders. “Eyes to the ground prisoner and the Master may let you live,” the gargoyle hissed though his voice wavered.

I did as he ordered but my heart thumped with dread knowing that his Master was Apollyon, one so feared he made even a creature of impenetrable stone tremble.

Corentin, a young foreign trader of the House Pelan arrives in the uncertain lands of Droma, tasked to deliver a mysterious chest to a far-away sage in a remote corner of the kingdom. Accompanied by his mercenary bodyguard, a young local priest, and their native scout, Corentin sets out on a journey that will change his life forever.

A Merchant’s Tale is the second installment in The Matter of Manred Saga, a new cycle of medieval romances, action adventures, heroic fantasies, mysterious priests, and their dark and forgetful gods, brought to you from the fiction workshop of Michael E. Dellert.

This is no shiny happy fantasy of noble knights on noble steeds acting nobly.

“The land and every man who steps foot onto it are in a fight for existence; no efforts will be spared to ensure survival. But, of course, not all can survive. Brutal and realistic, Dellert writes with uncompromising elegance.” – Astacia C.

From the Prologue:

“Now,” said their host, “Merchant, as the Gods may you bless, since you know so much of that land of Iathrann, full heartily I pray you tell us part.”

“Gladly,” said he.

“Eowain son of Findtan, Chief of the Donnghaile, King of the Droma, reigned over those lands. His armies raged across the High-King’s Road, annihilating every holdout in their path.

“Except one.

“His cousin had raised a legal challenge to the right of King Eowain to succeed to the throne of Droma, and was sharking up an army of lawless, dispossessed resolutes from the hinterlands of the kingdom to decide the matter by force of arms and terror.

“On the fifteenth day of the month of Fearn, Teilmon being the day of the week, under the dark of the moon, the caravan of House Pelan, honest merchants from Aukriath, ventured into the heart of the great Eowain’s war-torn kingdom.”

What People Are Saying about A Merchant’s Tale:

“There is no sense of creation behind A Merchant’s Tale; it is a document of pure reality, capturing the subtle beauty of a world that I am only beginning to understand and can’t wait to return to. Even the most casual moments in this second entry in the Matter of Manred resonate with a deep and cryptic history; whatever Michael Dellert is hiding behind this tapestry of shadows, his patience in revealing it sets a mood quite unlike other fantasy tales.”— Christopher Schlerf, Lead Writer, Halo 4

“Dellert deftly uses an outsider’s narrative to add yet another facet to an already all-encompassing tale, giving the readers a more comprehensive understanding of the world he has created. I loved the originality of using a merchant’s perspective in the second tale as opposed to the much more personal narrative of Eowain in Hedge King in Winter, idealism and superstition vs. cold pragmatism and profit. Made for a great read!”– Jenn M.

“This novella is so different than Hedge King in Winter, but complements it so well with its narrative style. The reader is able to see the heroic and stalwart Hedge King with an outsider’s eye, something I appreciated after suffering through his battles with him. The merchant’s son, while not easy to like himself, tells his story unapologetically with laughable brashness and high-handedness—I loved to hate him!”– Stacey C.

“I love the detail in this series! From each clan tartan, to the unforgiving landscape, Dellert paints the picture beautifully, with no detail left unattended. Can’t wait to see what happens next!”– Jennifer D.

“I was sorry to part ways with the unexpected heroes of this tale and was reminded of the power, fury and tenacity of a girl and her dog. Michael Dellert has once again captured every ounce of my attention with his magical and harrowing depictions of every day life in Droma and I am beating my fists on the table in anticipation of the next tale!”– Astacia C.

Join the Merchant’s Tale Goodreads Giveaway

Sign up for the Goodreads Giveaway of A Merchant’s Tale by 5 March and you’ll be eligible to win one of just 20 signed author’s copies of A Merchant’s Tale as well as a free signed author’s copy of Hedge King in Winter.Winners to be announced by 11 March 2016.

About the Author:

Michael Dellert is an award-winning writer, editor, publishing consultant, and writing coach with a publishing career spanning 20 years. He is the author of two fantasy fiction novellas: Hedge King in Winter and A Merchant’s Tale. His blog, MDellert-Dot-Com: An Adventure in Indie Publishing, is a resource for creative writers of all kinds.

As a blogger, he offers tips, tricks, and advice to aspiring writers seeking to improve their craft. He also provides insights into the current state of the publishing industry.

His poetry and short fiction have appeared in literary journals such as The Backporch Review, The Harbinger, Idiom, and Venture. His poetry has also appeared in the anthologies The Golden Treasury of Great Poems and Dance on the Horizon, and he is a two-time winner of the Golden Poet Award from World of Poetry Press. He recently completed his first novel, Heron Cry, which is currently on offer to various agents and publishers. Hedge King in Winter is his first published fiction novella, and previously appeared as a serial on Wattpad.

He holds a Master’s Degree in English Language & Literature from Drew University, and a certificate from the Cornell University School of Criticism & Theory (2009).

Building on a strong foundation in the elements of fiction, creative non-fiction, blogging, and screenwriting, he further developed his craft through two-year apprenticeships with the Ventura Fiction Writers Group, the LA Writer’s Lab, and the Tribe Writers.

As a professional publisher, companies as diverse as Wolters-Kluwer, McGraw-Hill, Cambridge University Press, Bertelsmann, and Macmillan have employed his services in a variety of editorial, print and digital production, content management, and IT support roles. Through his experience as a manager of platform development, content distribution systems, XML-First workflows, and digital production environments, he’s become a successful leader with a deep and intimate knowledge of the business and operational mechanics of publishing.

In his spare time, he volunteers as a water safety instructor and swim coach for the young and young-at-heart. He also enjoys swimming, hiking, the theatre, literary readings, and movies. He lives in the Greater New York City Area.